


Hold Still

by schiggy



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Awkward Sex, Barebacking, Kink Meme, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Riding, boys bein' besties first and boyfriends second
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 09:27:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1813540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schiggy/pseuds/schiggy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Suga says Daichi needs to rest his muscles.  </p><p>(DaiSuga riding+fluff for the hq!! kink meme)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold Still

"Everything hurts," Daichi sighs pitifully.  He's spread-eagled across his comforter, trying not to move anything.  It's been a rough week, and he's _exhausted_.  Between schoolwork and volleyball practice, time to rest has been scarce, and practice today has left Daichi sore all over.

 "Don't be a baby."  Suga is sprawled on his stomach next to him on Daichi's bed, doing his calculus homework.  It's a friday afternoon and it isn't due for three days.  _Disgusting._   "You're the one who comes up with our practice routines, anyway.  I feel fine.  Maybe you shouldn't push yourself so hard.  Or actually _do_ my cooldown stretches." 

 Daichi groans dramatically, rubbing at his own shoulders, which makes his biceps twinge.  "What I _should do_ is quit trying for any sympathy from you.  Everyone thinks _you're_ the nice one, you know."  He rolls over and crowds into Suga's space, peering over his shoulder at his homework.  "What. Are you doing."

 Suga hums, wrinkling his nose, and scratches out an answer.  "Just because it's the weekend doesn't mean I don't have work."  He squawks when Daichi yanks the paper out from under his hands.  " _Hey!"_

 "Hey yourself.  You're one to talk about ' _not pushing yourself too hard'_.   You just worked for, what, an hour?  Take a break."  He crab-scrambles to the end of his bed with Suga in pursuit, ignoring his burning shoulders in favor of pissing his co-captain off.  Some things, he thinks sagely, are worth the pain.

 " _Ugh._ "  Suga swats an arm out at Daichi, makes a grab for his homework, but Daichi holds it just out of reach.

 "Kiss me if you want your work back."  Daichi grins and waves the paper around, yanks it away when Suga grabs for it again.  "It's the fee.  For being an unbelievable nerd."  He laughs when Suga scrunches his face up.

 "You're a bully _._ "

 "Sure, a big manly muscly one."  Daichi wiggles his eyebrows, tossing Suga's homework off the bed, where it floats down to rest unattended on his schoolbag.  He flops backwards on the sheets, having done his good deed for the day.  Suga eyes his homework, weighing, then climbs over to Daichi after all, kisses him lightly on the mouth.

 "You're not gonna stay the _muscly_ one if you can't even cool down right."  His breath is sweet and warm on Daichi's cheek.  "Come on, roll over.  Let's see if there's anything I can do for the soreness."

 Daichi rolls onto his stomach, pillowing his head on his folded arms, grinning goofily.  "Thanks, Nurse Suga."  Then he _oofs_ as Suga straddles his back, settling his weight on his ass.  "You're not so light, you know."

 "Yeah, I'm _huge_.  Now stop complaining or I won't rub your back."  Daichi shuts up: Suga gives incredible, if rare, massages.

 It feels amazing.  Suga's fingers are deft but strong, pressing with mastery at all Daichi's sore spots, using his body weight to press the tension out of Daichi's aching muscles.  It's short but effective, and Daichi's a puddle after just a few minutes of expert kneading.  When Daichi jokingly mutters, "Do I get a happy ending?"  Suga laughs, rises up enough to flip Daichi over, and settles down again, now straddling his waist.  He leans down to kiss him again, hotter now, more languid, and Daichi's whole body takes interest.

 "Maybe you do.  But we're not putting any more strain on your muscles today."  He pokes at Daichi's still-tender shoulder, prompting a wince.  "Hey.  You want to try something new?"

 "New?"  Daichi's still watching Suga's mouth.

 "Yeah."  Suga reddens a bit.  "We can, um.  Like this."  He shifts his hips against Daichi's, can feel Daichi's dick perk up a little in his shorts.  "I've never, you know.  Taken.  You."  

  _There's_ a proposition.  Daichi thinks about it for a second, face heating as he imagines pushing up into Suga, Suga's hands on his chest, in his hair-

 "Yeah," Daichi echoes.  "Yeah, if you-if you want to.  I'd be.  Um."

 Suga lets out a nervous little laugh.  "Okay.  Do you have-"

 "Drawer."  Daichi's mouth is dry.  Suga leans over him, fumbles with the drawer in his nightstand for a second before producing the small tube of lube they'd bought a few months ago (Suga'd had to pay, because Daichi didn't have the courage to take it to the counter and look the cashier in the eye).  He sets it to the side.   _Jumping right to it, then._ Daichi side-eyes the innocuous little tube nestled in the blankets by his shoulder as Suga resettles himself over his hips.  He swallows, throat dry, imagining Suga stretching himself-

 "Okay.  Let's get this out of the way first."  Suga tugs at Daichi's shirt, but when he goes to pull it off himself, Suga pushes his arms down, shaking his head.  Daichi can see the grin being fought off his face, flickering around the corners of his mouth.  " _Ah-ah._ You're resting those muscles.  Doctor's orders.  You just sit still."  Suga pushes Daichi's shirt up around his armpits, then pulls off his own, crossing his arms at the hem and tugging it over his head.  His body pulls long, hair mussed with the static, as he tosses the shirt behind him. Daichi is not sure where this is going; he reaches for Suga's shorts, only to have his hands moved away again.  " _Still,_ Daichi.  I'm taking care of you."

 "You're so weird," Daichi says good-naturedly, lifting his hips so Suga can tug down his shorts, leaving him in his threadbare boxer-briefs.  Suga's own shorts follow in a hurry, and then he's being kissed again.  Suga's lips are soft on his chapped ones, and Daichi opens his jaw a little, lets Suga lick into his mouth.  He can feel Suga's boxers being pulled down, crisp fabric and then bare skin brushing over his stomach and legs.  To his right, Suga's fingers find the lube again, and he can hear the _pop_ of the cap.  Daichi breaks their kiss, murmurs against Suga's still-open mouth.  "Do I get to do this, at least?"

 "Mm.  No. Rest up."  It's so obvious that Suga thinks he's funny.

 As Daichi watches, Suga smears a finger with clear gel, reaches behind himself, presses in.  He can't see much, so he watches Suga's face.  He mostly just looks kind of uncomfortable.  "You sure?  I can-"

 "No no, I can do it, I should know how to-" Suga winces as he presses in a second finger.  "Aah, how do you do this so often?  This just feels bizarre."

 Daichi blushes furiously.  "I don't do it _that_ often!  And you have to get to-"  

 "I know, I know!"  Suga looks kind of mortified.  He's still almost completely soft.  Daichi squirms uncomfortably, wanting to help.  He holds back.  Doctor's orders.

 Time stretches out as Daichi watches Suga hiss and wince around his own fingers, unable to do anything but look on and imagine how sweet Suga would be wrapped around his knuckles, picturing his fingers sunk to the base in flexing heat.  Their stomachs and foreheads are pressed together, breaths mingling, sticky-damp skin on skin.  Suga's face looks less pained by the minute.  His brow has started to smooth out; he's getting used to the stretch.  His hips are even rolling against Daichi's a bit, making Daichi feel less guilty about having been half-hard pretty much this whole time.  His skin is so fucking soft, warm and pink all over, and Daichi sinks his teeth into the inside of his cheek. "I think I'm ready," Suga says.

 "Okay," Daichi replies meekly, not moving his hands, and Suga laughs a little, cheeks dimpling.  Daichi's stomach flips, and he smiles back.

 The air is cold when Suga pulls Daichi's briefs down one-handed.  He rises up on his knees, and Daichi stares at his smooth, smooth thighs before shivering at the feel of them brushing his erection.  Suga angles him up, pumps him a couple times with one slick hand, starts to push back, and the press of slippery, intimate skin parting against the head of his dick makes Daichi gasp.

 "Not so bad," Suga says, softly, voice low like he's talking to himself, and Daichi _needs_ to make sure this is good for him.

 "Go slow," Daichi reminds him, and Suga listens, pressing down a millimeter at a time, knees wide on either side of Daichi's hips and lips pressed tight together.  He's so _hot_ inside, just like he'd imagined, and it's so hard not to just shove up into all that tightness.  He fists his hands in the sheets as Suga braces his hands on his chest and, excruciatingly slowly, sinks the rest of the way down. Daichi forces his eyes to refocus on Suga's flushed face, licks his dry lips.

 "Alright?"

 "Hhf, hurts a little."

 "It's okay.  Don't rush."  Keeping still is  _torture._

 Gingerly, Suga's hips start to pull back up, press back down, tiny thrusts that make Daichi's head go fuzzy.  He wants to touch, more than anything.  Suga doesn't stop him this time when he rests a hot hand on his thigh.  His dick is starting to lengthen against Daichi's stomach, the head pushing into the trail of dark hair below his navel.  His thrusts get longer, pushing Daichi deeper into himself.  Daichi fights to keep his eyes from closing, fights down a pleasured little whine, stays still.

He can _see_ when he hits Suga's prostate for the first time; in the span of a second, surprise and then pleasure flash across his face, muscles spasming hard around where Daichi's pushed up thick inside him.  He pulls in a ragged gasp, his cock lifting, knuckles white on Daichi's skin.  Daichi's head swims for a moment as more blood redirects itself toward his groin, _fuck_.  

 " _Hah, Daichi, that's, again._ "  Suga's face is open and surprised and going red again.  He leans backwards, hissing as Daichi shifts around inside him.  One hand squeezes on Daichi's thigh and he settles his weight back onto it.  He's flustered but still so in control, even prim somehow, levelly meeting Daichi's hazy eyes as he readjusts his position.  "Wait, no, sorry, just a--hold still--" 

 Daichi does as he's told, chews his lip as he watches Suga swivel his hips experimentally, feels him tense on a soft breath as he half-purposely presses Daichi's cockhead into his prostate again.   Arched back like Suga is, his flush reaches deliciously all the way down his flat stomach, and Daichi wants to follow it with his tongue.  Every tiny movement around his dick is like a hot little stroke, feels like all his nerves are on fire. " _God,_ Suga…you..."  His hoarse voice is hardly even recognizable to his own ears.

 Suga shudders at the sound of his name, knows he won't start calling him _Koushi, ohgod Koushi_ until he's right on the edge.  Heat winds its way down Suga's spine at the thought, chasing away the last of the residual pain.  "Daichi."

 Daichi guiltily tears his eyes away from Suga's slim hips, fidgeting against his own.

 "I'm gonna move for real now, alright?"

 There's a familiar determined set to Suga's shoulders, a slight sheen to the skin on his chest and forehead, light bangs sticking to his face a little, and Daichi is barely conscious of the nodding of his head and his own quiet _"Yeah.  P-please."_ Suga graces him with one of his most confident smiles, and begins to roll his hips.

 They start slow, the grind of Suga's hips leisurely and teasing, and the roar of blood in Daichi's ears is almost loud enough to keep him from hearing the hot panting breaths Suga takes as he keeps moving in those delicious circles, still somewhat tense but getting easier, slippery and hot and close.  Daichi feels like he's aware of every centimeter of his skin, where he's pushed against the sheets and where he's pushed into Suga, and he bites down hard on the knuckle he finds he's pressed to his mouth to stifle his groan.  His hand jumps to Suga's sweat-slicked hip, nails digging in, and the other chokes on a gasp.

 "S'okay?"  Oh, god, it's so _tight,_ and Daichi can hardly find the breath to force out real words.  Suga doesn't seem to mind, tangling his fingers with Daichi's at his hip, dragging Daichi's nails up his skin to his waist, letting Daichi _feel_ him shudder around his dick.  

 "Mm, it's so, this is so-- _hah--_ nn, it's still hard but it's-- _good,_ Daichi _\--_ doing so good-- _"  Always with the praise, even like this_ , Daichi thinks, and a rush of something warm and incredibly fond blooms in his chest.  When Suga tips his head back on a harsh exhale, Daichi tries to lean up to press his mouth to all that exposed neck--his muscles scream in protest--but Suga pushes him back down with a palm to his chest.  There's so much color in his cheeks when he leans down, braces himself with an elbow on the bed by Daichi's shoulder.  "No, stay, we're taking care of _you_ today _,_ remember?  _Sit still_."

 Daichi grins and pushes his hips up, watches Suga's mouth fall open, pink and wet.  He keeps angling for the spot that makes Suga jerk against him, drinking in his tight gasps with each thrust.  "I never agreed to that.  You wanna mother me, _nn,_ do it _outside_ the bedroom, weirdo--" and Suga's laughing, breathy and intimate and pressing their panting lips together, teeth clicking, and Daichi loses his train of thought, kissing him dizzily, biting at his mouth until he _needs_ to pull in a breath.

 When their lips finally part, Suga draws back, and he's not giggling anymore--his flush has spread blotchy across his heaving chest, his hair mussed from Daichi's desperate fingers, big doe eyes gone dark and half-lidded.  He looks _good_.  And when he moves away, sits upright again on Daichi's hips ( _oh god, his ass is flush with his hips, he's pushed up so deep inside him, can feel every inch),_ Daichi can see how hard he's gotten, all swollen thick between his spread thighs, red and shiny-wet like his mouth.  Daichi makes a completely pitiful noise, and Suga licks his lips and starts to fucking _bounce_. Daichi distantly wonders if he's going to pass out.

 " _K-hh!  Koushi, uh,"_ Daichi forces out, " _You're--you're--"_   

 Suga leans back on his hands, dick smacking _obscenely_ against his stomach, Daichi's dirtiest fantasies come to life; he fists his fingers tight in the sheets and tries not to let the whine out of his throat.  Suga's never loud, but he's making harsh little hiccuping noises through gritted teeth every time he forces himself down again.  Daichi thinks he might lose it when he notices the shiny little smear on Suga's stretched-taut stomach, right where the tip of his dick taps against his skin at the peak of every shove of his hips.  It's filthy, Suga's such a _mess_ now, all his usual tight-knit composure forgotten as he forces Daichi's dick into himself over and over, gasping every time he gets the angle just right.  Daichi's stomach muscles are twitching, his feet scrambling for purchase against the unmade bed, and Suga just grips tighter into the muscle of his upper thighs, nails pressing small sharp half-moons into the skin, and Daichi thinks he has probably _never_ been this hard.

 He's not going to last long, not with Suga bearing down on him so hot and perfect, and Daichi doesn't want to get there alone, to hell with this being _his_ day or whatever; he grabs at Suga's dick, pawing for it uselessly a couple times before clumsily wrapping calloused fingers around it, but Suga honest-to-god sobs like it's the best thing he's ever felt, and suddenly Daichi is falling over an edge he didn't know was so near.  All he can manage is a strained " _gonna--!"_ before his toes curl, one hand squeezing convulsively at Suga's cock, and Daichi is coming so deliciously hard, Suga's slick skin all around him and pressed in so deep that he can feel Suga's heat against the pulled-tight skin of his balls.  Daichi curls in on himself and definitely does _not_ whimper as he pumps all he has into that clutching warmth, fingers clenching hard in Suga's hand, his dick jerking spasmodically until he's overstimulated and throbbing, slippery-wet between his legs, dribbling down his softening length.

 A soft breathy noise above him pulls Daichi out of his bliss-addled head and reminds him that he's still squeezing at Suga's dick.  He tries to stutter out an apology around his now-heavy tongue, but is interrupted by Suga groaning " _Daichi, uhhn, you gotta, it's--_ "

 "Hah, Suga, look s'good when you're close," Daichi breathes, half drunk with orgasm, soreness forgotten, movements sloppy.  He eases his grip, swirling rough fingertips through the copious wet at Suga's tip and Suga is writhing against him, all his internal muscles shivering as Daichi puts both hands on his dick and starts to strip him fast and tight.

 It doesn't take long.  Daichi knows the second Suga's about to come; his dick gets impossibly harder between Daichi's coaxing fingers, and his back stiffens into a harsh-looking arc, mouth stretched open on a silent cry.  There's a flutter of inner muscle, his thighs tightening around Daichi's hips, then so, so much hot and wet all over Daichi's hands and stomach and running down his side, Suga groaning all soft like it _hurts_.  Daichi makes sure he strokes Suga through it; he keeps up his rough twisting pulls until Suga is gasping, his dick flushed dark and uselessly twitching at Daichi's fingertips, his slit straining out the last pearly dribbles against Daichi's abdomen.  After so much rubbing, the head of his cock's gone raw and livewire sensitive beneath Daichi's touch.  Suga exhales shakily and presses into Daichi's hand a few more times, touch-greedy and reeling with oversensitivity, before he collapses forward with a luxurious sigh and Daichi still inside him.

 "Oh wow," says Suga, when he finally comes back to himself.  They're both sticky, probably due for another shower. His face is pressed to Daichi's neck, and somehow their fingers have gotten tangled together again, trapped between their bodies.

 "Hm?"  The fingers of Daichi's free hand are toying absently with Suga's silky hair.

 "Now _I'm_ gonna be sore."

**Author's Note:**

> i'm like 300% sure i can never do justice to how much i love the idea of daichi and suga being Overly Comfortable Best Friends for a Really Long Time  
> ((also i'm going to hell but it's probably where i've always belonged. hope this is what you wanted OP))


End file.
